Shadows of Love
by Annabelle Marie
Summary: The summer after that fateful day was anything less than pleasant. Both Anne and Gilbert felt it. They could both feel a shadow of something missing, something gone, that should have never left. And both knew exactly what that something was.
1. Anne's Turmoil

Anne lay awake in her old East Gable bedroom, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. Although she tried, time and again to find sleep, it would not come. It was slipping away, as the hours dragged on. She supposed, after accepting her fate of sleeplessness, she may as well make the best of her time.

"Time," she laughed bitterly. "What good is that to me now?" Times seemed quite gray to her then. The color in her usually vibrant cheeks had disappeared. Though she wouldn't admit it, not even to herself, she knew exactly why her life was so dull, and her soul so restless. Gilbert. That name sent a shudder through her spine, and set an image in her mind. It was the image of his stone white face after her refusal, and everyday that image was engraved more deeply into her heart.

Anne tried to block out that memory, but it seemed that the more she tried, the more it haunted her. All summer long she had tried to block out the bitter memories of _him._It seemed, all of Avonlea held some reminder of old times; times when they were _friends_, times she knew were gone. The entire summer had been filled with bittersweet moments. As long as she occupied herself with others, she could ignore the ache; but alone, the pain wellowed up inside her.

"Oh why is everything ruined?" Anne moaned as a single tear slipped down her face. Who really cared anymore? A good cry never hurt anyone, she reasoned as the tears began to flow more heavily. She slowly crawled out of bed and searched for a handkerchief.

"What if life is always like this?" She allowed that thought to escape from the innermost part of her soul, a thought that had been nagging at her for quite some time. It was _his_ fault. "He _had_ to go and… and _change," _she thought with a sob. "_He_ probably isn't affected at all by our lack of friendship. It's not like _he's _going through the same thing." Little did she know just how completely wrong she was.


	2. Gilbert's Misery

Gilbert stared blankly at the ceiling. He wasn't focusing on anything. In fact, he didn't even realize he was looking at it. Most likely he didn't even acknowledge it **was** a ceiling. At the moment, he was nowhere near that grungy, old ceiling. He was far away, back home in Avonlea, where Anne was. He blinked slowly, coming out of his reverie. It had been that dream again. It was the one dream he wouldn't dare dream in daylight hours. He would only permit it in the night, when he was alone, and he could let himself be vulnerable.

This was the way Gilbert spent many nights that summer. During the day, he was occupied, and did not have the time to think, but at night he could think of nothing but Anne. Why should he care so much? After all, she said herself she could never care for him. Never. That word haunted him. Before he had hope; now, he had nothing but memories. Memories of her sweet face, her flaming spirit, and the long journey of their relationship. How hard had he worked just to gain her friendship? He would have worked infinitely harder for even the slightest hope of her love, but she had refused.

Gilbert shuffled again in his small bed. The thin covers did itch something terrible. And his room **did** have to be the coldest one in all of Kingsport. He sat up, rather slowly, and stared out the small window, searching the night sky. It was the same moon that shone over Avonlea, over the ghosts of his broken world.

Gilbert had built his whole world around Anne. Every memory, every dream, every plan had been built with her in mind. His world shattered to pieces that fateful day. There was nothing else for him now. He was learning more every day how much Anne brought to his life, how much he missed her. Still, there was no point in missing her. She didn't care. He had to continue and rebuild his life.

"But what is life without Anne?" Gilbert thought with a pang in his heart. He would have to wake up every day all alone. He could find new ambitions, and achieve them, no doubt. Even still, they would be hollow, only there to fill his time. What good are ambitions if you haven't any love to share them with? He could never love anyone but Anne, and Anne would never love him.

Authors Note:

Please review this. Seriously, I've gotten 2 reviews out of about 400 hits. How hard is it to leave a review? Even if you just say something like "this is cool" or "I hate this. Never write again." I don't care. Just say it. You wanna criticize it? Pick it apart. I just wanna know what you think. Everyone wants to say what they think, so here's your chance. Review.


	3. A Bittersweet Return

It was over almost as soon as it began, and Anne had once again returned to Patty's Place. Life was returning to its normal pace. Anne was grateful though. She would say she had missed the home and Kingsport, and Phil, as well as the others. As true as that may have been, though, her break had been rather dull, and she was curious. Painful as the memories of the past were, she still wondered about a certain someone she hadn't seen or heard from the entire break.

Coming home had its bittersweet moments, and mainly bitter in relation to _him._ Her first walk back through the apple orchard, for instance. She had planned never to go there again, but somehow her steps led her there one sunny afternoon soon after her return. The day was much like another beautiful day not long ago, though it seemed like ages.

She had known things were changing between them, but why? Anne sat down slowly on a certain familiar boulder and remembered the last time she'd even spoken to her once dear friend. The world around was blossoming, full of life and joy, but she.. she still felt the bitter pangs of a crushed spirit. How could the flowers be happy in a place like this?

She recalled Gilbert having brought Mayflowers that day. How well she loved them! And then he had to go and ruin it, ruin everything! Her eyes went misty, and she sat there like a fool, as she called herself, dabbing her eyes and crying to the flowers, sharing her woes.

Oh here she was, failing miserably at any attempt of recreating her world- without him! Was there no justice to her dreams, that they should all end in ruin?

The flowers didn't answer her, but Anne didn't notice. She lost most of her dignity when she was off to herself, free to wander. And then she sat there just trying not to care, watching the sun set over her bruised heart.

"Sunset?" She wondered. "Oh I must go back inside! It must have been hours! I am sure they will all have wondered about me something terrible. How can I ever explain this?" Anne tried in a hurried effort to make herself look presentable, and wipe away the salty tears. And perhaps there she could somehow escape the haunting shadows of an old memory, burning hard within her heart.

Inside, they thought nothing of her absence. She had been known to wander off, and get lost in the beauty of the world before. They had been busy preparing dinner, though, and Stella chided Anne for not helping. Anne just shrugged and sat at her place for the meal, which would be quite lovely, on any other occasion. Throughout the meal, Anne barely said a word. She just stared out the small kitchen window, watching the stars in the sky, wishing desperately she could soar with them, far above her troubles. Stella and Priscilla and Phil and even Aunt Jamesia were chattering and laughing, enjoying the night, but Anne just felt lost, like she didn't belong anymore.

"Are you alright, honey?" Phil asked with a concerned look on her face, one of the most serious looks she owned.

Anne just nodded mumbling a yes, as she transferred her focus on conquering the plate, which seemed to grow as her appetite disappeared. She silently scolded herself for being so absorbed in matters of the past. Phil went on talking, but only after giving Anne a look. Anne sighed. The last thing she wanted was to talk to Phil about her troubles. Besides, she had already vowed never to even think of it again. He wanted something she could never give him. Love.

"Love?" She thought. "Oh why would he go and think of something so foolish as love, between us! It's just absurd. I could never marry Gilbert! But why am I thinking of this? I already refused him! And anyways this really has nothing to do with me. It was _his_ choice to ruin our beautiful friendship!"

That evening, it can be said that Anne did not keep her vow. She was awake long after Rusty, and half the time she didn't even know what she was thinking, but somehow she knew she had to think of something. And in the morning she was more distressed than ever.

Author's Note:

Hey! Thanks for the reviews. I thought I might go ahead and try to write another chapter. If you can't tell, it's just gonna be little vignettes of the times after the rejection. But if you want.. please review again. You review, I write. Wow.. isn't that a genius concept? I thought so too.


	4. Departed Dreams

"The world isn't the same as it once was," sighed a girl who had seen indeed very little of the way the world was.

"And what would you know of what the world was, Anne? How can it have changed so much, that you can sit here and resist the call of a perfectly fine day?" Aunt Josephine shook her head in between the silver clacking of knitting needles. "It is the same world I was born into, the same world I dreamed the golden dreams of youth. You cannot have lost your youthful vivacity yet, you the one whose eyes speak of dreams untold!"

Anne's eyes still said volumes in those days; only it was in a language no one else could understand, except perhaps Gilbert, if he had ever had the courage to look into her eyes, the eyes which pierced down into his very marrow. He knew that those eyes could see through every disguise. He knew that those eyes did not see him as Gilbert Blythe, distinguished scholar and bachelor. For all he knew, those eyes did not even see him at all. Anne belonged to a higher star than the one he claimed. She lived in a land of dreams and fancies. Him, a frowsy country boy, had the audacity to sit in the rightful throne of Prince Charming?

"What a fool I am!" thought Gilbert bitingly for the seventh time that hour. His thoughts tended to be reruns those days. The only new thought had come abruptly, bubbled up before he had time to beat it down, and it had occurred when he passed Anne in the paths near school. Neither had been alone, so it had saved them both from the chill that had become so common in odd places among "friends".

He was not chilled however, and almost blushed when he realized he had been thinking how very becoming her hair was in the sunlight. Of course after that, he sensed the lingering taste of last night's carrot cake and the even more lingering taste of bittersweet humiliation which stings much longer than a stomachache ever could.

He could still remember every snub; every time she had made it clear his advances were taken as a fool's errand. He had set himself up for this demise. He had shot the arrow through his own heart, but couldn't she have at least helped to pull it out, maybe clean up the wound? Couldn't she have sent even one card of sympathy over his departed heart? Did she know what she did to his poor heart when she looked so lovely? Girls who break hearts so should not be allowed to look so.

Anne, however, was oblivious to any admiration of her "becoming" hair, although she was dreadfully afraid of what her eyes could be telling the world. Grateful for escape, as she always was these days, she took up Aunt Jamesina's recommendation of the alluring outdoors.

Her every aspiration these days was to escape, to escape the stifling indoors, to escape the overbearing outdoors. Her soul was caged in a secret she shared, but did not cherish, a cruel and fatal blow to every youthful dream. What had Aunt Jamesina said, "You cannot have lost your youthful vivacity"?

She had not lost it. It had been stolen from her. Too many illusions shattered now, too many dreams would never be fulfilled.

"Too many dreams will never be birthed," she whispered into the chilly air in the park. Now it is one thing for old dreams to die, but to not even have the hope of new ones? Tragic! Preposterous! It was of her own choosing though, as we all know. Her heart couldn't yet understand all of the dreams she had doomed to nonexistence, dreams beyond the fantastical illusions of youth. They were gone. Perhaps that is why she felt it so keenly. Her heart ached for its dream children never to be borne, and yet it did not understand. It was confusion and dread she had never felt before. Every dream in younger days she had lived. She had watched many a dream die, but to lose something your heart burns for, to have the candle snuffed out, before you had ever even seen that candle? It was dark days indeed. In her soul, it was the darkest of nights, but she kept right on believing it to be just a passing storm cloud, easily carried by the wind, a temporary grievance in her sunny sky.


	5. Candy Hearts and Schoolchums

"You were made and meant for each other, Anne."

Anne remembered Miss Lavendar's confident statement. She shook her head in disagreement as she finished drying the morning's dishes.

She needed to get out of the house. For too long she had been stifled by the same walls, the same routines, and the same thoughts. It began two days earlier with a dreadful headache, but after she was well enough to venture outdoors to the clean air, the weather turned on her and sentenced her to another day of inactivity.

Today, the rain was hesitant, at times dawdling down from the sky, at times pushed aside by the victorious sunlight. When the next cloud passed over, Anne could stand it no longer. She flung down the dishtowel with dismay, then marched to the front room where Aunt Jamesina sat restfully.

"I'm going out today," Anne triumphed. "And the weather can just try and take my afternoon away from me."

Aunt Jamesina nodded and inquired, "Will you pick up some sugar from the store? We're almost out."

"Of course. I suppose we'll need to bake something for tonight in case people come to call." Anne considered aloud as she exited trough the old brown door.

"I do hope Gilbert doesn't decide to call tonight," she silently added.

She had been grateful to see him at the end of the summer, but now as school fell into its regular pattern, she was sorry to always have him so near. When the evil forces of inattentive friends and awkward social situations forced them near, she found herself at a loss for words. He had spoken once to her to inquire as to the state of Green Gables, but barely acknowledged her reply. If one did not know of their previous friendship, one would have speculated them to be remote strangers.

At this point in her walk, Anne slowed. She was drawing nearer to town, sorry to see her moment of peace shorter. The autumn air always had a calming effect on her. Today was no exception. The crisp air blew through her hair. It was no fairy's breath, as she might have imagined in younger days. It was simply a breeze, which blew the sweet fragrance of fall into her face, illuminating the memories of bygone autumns.

She remembered how clean and alive the air felt after she first forgave Gilbert, brimming with the promise of new friendship and a lengthy strain swept away. Their friendship had arisen almost instantly, as if it had been there all along, only hidden beneath the disguise of rivalry.

No matter how many interesting people came across her path in Kingsport, she knew that nothing could replace the dear old friends of yesteryear, who shared the infinite imaginings of youth.

She was sorry for this break in her and Gilbert's friendship. Times such as they had shared were too precious to waste.

Maybe people did change, and maybe what had occured between them made friendship impossible, maybe they were too different to consider it, but no- Anne believed none of that. She believed that there had to be something sh could do to revive the old friendship, which had presided in such a high position in her heart.

They had both had to offer forgiveness to one another. It was nothing new to either of them, just a temporary breach in their ill-fated friendship, something Gilbert would get over in time.

It was of no consequence to Anne that he had said, "your friendship can never satisfy me." She reasoned that he must accept it. Would he not rather be friends than this awkward non-acquaintance? She would much rather it be so!

At this point she had arrived at the general store which supplied the various needs of the people in the area She remembered the promised sugar, and lugged it to the counter. After setting it down with a sigh of relief, she saw a small shelf dedicated solely to the sale of candies and other sweet goods. Her eyes fell upon a small box of candy hearts, the old-fashioned kind she remembered as a child.

It was perfect. She remembered all too well a small candy heart, offered delicately as a peace offering for the dreadful insult in the form of "carrots". She knew it would not dissolve all of the tension of late, but she hoped beyond hope that it would remind him of the days before "love", even before "friendship, while they were still two kids in an Avonlea schoolroom, and that maybe by going back to the very beginning, they might reestablish some kind of relationship, even if it was the bare minimum, on the basis of growing up together and sharing the same schoolhouse scenes.

She purchased the candy hearts and sugar with a new hope in her heart and hurried home.


	6. Dear Friends & Doubts

Anne set the candy hearts down in the kitchen, saving them for a better time. She then set to work baking an apple pie, and was lost in the tedium of cooking until sunset.

She heard Phil's laughter from outside the door, and knew she had brought with her a large group of people. She wiped her hands on her apron, and slid the pie into the oven. She knew Phil could keep them entertained without her for the time being. Phil was ever the sociable one.

Anne tried not to notice her unkempt hair and plain eyes in the upstairs mirror as she changed outfits. She rinsed her face and patted it dry, peering closer into the unforgiving glass.

"I'm not beautiful, am I?" Anne asked Stella from outside of the door.

Stella looked up from a novel she had been reading with disbelief.

"What are you talking about, Anne Shirley?" Stella stared at her with wide eyes.

Anne walked into Stella's room and sat down.

"Well I don't have a crooked smile like Phil. I don't have "dreamy eyes" like you. My hair is still red, despite the kind people who try to call it auburn. I'm not saying I'm repulsive, but I just don't see how I could ever attract anyone."

Stella still looked at Anne as if she were speaking a foreign language.

"Anne, I think you've forgotten that it's you that Gilbert Blythe fancies"

"Fancied." Anne corrected her shortly.

"Oh." Stella's face fell. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

Stella was silent a minute before continuing.

"It seems like you can be friends again though. I saw him talking to you just yesterday after class."

"He was asking me where Phil was." Anne groaned.

"Oh. Well he can't possibly avoid you forever. You two have been friends too long. He might get over it in time"

"Might?" Anne questioned.

Stella sighed.

"You and Gilbert will absolutely be friends again. I can promise you that." Stella finally consented.

Anne sat up straighter and looked Stella in the eye. "I'm going to hold you to that, you know"

"I know." Stella smiled. "Now can we please go downstairs!"


	7. Close Encounters of the Platonic Kind

"Gilbert, why do you keep glancing up at the stairs? Are you expecting someone?" Philippa teased with taunting eyes and a crooked smirk.

"No," he glowered. "No…actually I was hoping to find an escape hatch in case this party gets any duller."

"Oh… right. Yeah. Um excuse me one second." Phil bit her lip and left the living-room.

Priscilla Grant had been sitting quietly to the side, but still near enough to hear Gilbert and Phil's exchange.

"What has gotten into you Gilbert Blythe? That was low. You know how sensitive Phil can be. She was only teasing you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't appreciate her insinuations. Next time I will be especially careful to concede to every word from the sensible Phil Gordon's mouth.."

At this point Gilbert turned away and focused his attention on the main party's conversation, contributing a gibe likening Charlie's eyes to the moon.

Priscilla cocked her head in wonder. Never in all of her acquaintance with Gilbert had she known him to use caprice. He was the epitome of cordiality. In an instant, however, he had returned to his normal, chummy self. It had been a brief flash of fragmentation in his well-kept façade, which he determined quickly would never show again.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Gilbert chided himself inwardly. He heard a laugh from upstairs and glanced in that direction. When he realized whose laugh it was, he jerked his head back and stared at his fidgety hands. With slight hesitation he raised his eyes once more to the stairs. In that instant, Anne reached the bottom stair and gracefully paused, holding Gilbert's gaze from across the room. She nodded and smiled with a smile statelier than a queen. Then she looked away, and Gilbert stared at his hands again.

Stella took a seat near the fire, while Phil resumed her place in the center of attention. Anne paused a moment as she surveyed the scene before her.

"Ohhh. I um.. I ..I.. my apple pie!" Anne shook her head as she walked into the kitchen, finally leaning against the wall for support. Stella arrived a moment later, after giving the excuse of needing to assist in the kitchen.

"Oh Stella, that was dreadful! Of all the luck. That the only open seat was right next to him. And he kept looking up at me, I could feel it. Just daring me to sit down- I had to get out of there! I tell myself every day to act composed, to not show any symptom of fear, but I cannot bring myself to look in his eyes. I do not have the courage to face what is so uncomfortable. Of all the unromantic, inconvenient situations which I would most wish to avoid." Anne said breathlessly as she paced the floor

"Anne." Stella intercepted.

"What?"

"Your pie is going to combust if you don't take it out of the stove."

"Oh dear! What is the matter with me? I mean I have always been a little forgetful, but lately it's as though my mind has taken an extraordinarily long holiday."

"Do you need any help?" Stella offered kindly.

"No. I think I can take care of the rest of this. Go ahead back into the living room. I'll be fine." Anne smiled and ushered Stella out of the room.

Anne set the pie out to cool, and rested her head softly on her fists. She watched through the window as shadows shifted on the lawn.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" she heard a voice say. Uneasily Anne turned her head only to see Gilbert standing in the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart gave a queasy start. She quickly collected herself so as to appear normal. He was no more than another caller swept in with the winds of the social season.

"It does seem a shame to stay inside on a night like this." she consented, wondering where he found the nerve to talk to her so familiarly. As of late, he had been so standoffish.

Gilbert stood a moment without replying, a queer look on his face. He recovered though, finally saying,

"Well fortunately I was on my way out when I passed by. I regret I won't be able to try some dessert."

"Oh. Think nothing of it! It was really nothing special. Why must you leave so early?" Anne asked, muffling her uninvited curiosity.

"I have an engagement with Robert Stuart. He assisted me a lot when I first arrived in Redmond, so when he asked me for assistance, I was obliged to help in any way possible."

Anne could think of nothing to say in reply to that. She wanted to know so terribly what his business was with Robert, but could find no grounds to ask it of him. He must have understood her interest, for as he was about to leave from the doorway he paused and said,

"He needed me to escort his relative from the train station." Gilbert explained.

"Oh. Well I wasn't asking anyways." Anne said, defending himself from his piercing intuition.

"You wanted to." Gilbert smirked, and then walked away.

Anne stabled herself by holding on to the counter. The whole encounter had seemed relatively normal. He had acted almost as he had before his proposal, only without the sopping puppy-dog look in his eyes. Thank goodness, she exclaimed. Seeing him so cool and confident made her feel foolish. Why had she been so afraid to sit by him? She had no reason to hide from him. He was the one who should be avoiding her, and yet he seemed so calm being alone with her. She only wished she could possess such composure- and she wasn't even the one rejected!

"He obviously wasn't hurt much." Anne murmured. She sighed, a little upset that his endearment towards her would pass so easily, but hopeful that their friendship could return. With an optimistic smile resting placidly just beneath her well-shaped nose, Anne sliced her pie, returned to the party assembled in the living room, and forgot all about the candy hearts.

Author's Note:

I finally feel like I'm getting somewhere with this story. I'm trying to stay true to Montgomery's original story, but I have changed a few things. I love all of you who have enjoyed reading this, and I'm excited to write more.


End file.
